


Wanted: Escorts

by jozevf



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28765818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jozevf/pseuds/jozevf
Summary: “I can take it. I need the money.”





	Wanted: Escorts

WANTED: ESCORTS

Excellent pay with flexible hours!

Contact “Big Papa” Papawazu in the Sultana’s Breath Apartments!

  
  
  


Fashonti Silvaire, a young miqo’te, stood in the lobby of the Sultana’s Breath, staring at the flyer in his hand. Gil had been very hard to come by since Elsi was injured, and though adventuring put some food on the table it had grown more difficult without his sister there to aid him. Perhaps escorting a merchant or a caravan would be easier. Certainly they would hire more than one escort if it was a caravan, so he wouldn’t have to worry about fighting solo. 

Tucking the flier into his coat pocket, Fashonti approached the receptionist. She was a tall roegadyn woman who looked like she was struggling to hide her boredom. She hadn’t looked at Fashonti the entire time he was there, and he was uncertain if she even noticed him enter. He reached out to tap the bell on the desk when she startled him. “Please don’t use the bell when I’m standing right here. Whatcha need, hon?”

Fashonti’s face felt warm with embarrassment. “Ah-- I--” He cleared his throat as he remembered what Elsi always told him: _Take your time. Choose your words._ “I’m looking for… ‘Big Papa’ Papawazu?”

For the briefest of moments, the roegadyn woman’s face twisted into a smirk, but quickly returned to bored disinterest. “Stairs behind the door. Third floor, first apartment on the left.”

Fashonti offered a polite bow and headed for the steps. Before the door closed behind him, he heard the woman call out to him, “Don’t let the old sod undersell ya!” He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t want to go back to ask. _She’s just teasing, I’m sure._

***

When Fashonti found the right door, he saw there was a paper posted on it that read **BIG PAPA’S HOUSE! NO SOLICITORS!** in crude handwriting. With some hesitation, he knocked on the door. There was a ruckus of noise from within the apartment almost immediately, and a gruff voice called out. “WHADDYA WANT?”

Not wanting to raise his voice in the hallway, Fashonti leaned close to the door. “I’m… Here about your flier?”

“Oh for Thal’s-- SPEAK UP, GODS DAMN IT!” There was more commotion in the apartment as footsteps could be heard nearing the door.

Fashonti, a little hesitantly, raised his voice, fearing he might disturb the neighbors. “I’m here for-- !” The door swung open before he could finish his sentence, and there stood one of the shortest, oldest looking lalafells he had ever seen.

“I’m busy, so let’s make it quick. You here to be a whore or buy a whore?” The small lalafell frowned at Fashonti, smelling of cigar smoke and chocolate.

“Wh-what?” Fashonti began to wonder if he knocked on the wrong door, that perhaps the sign on the door was a joke or an error. “I’m… looking for Papawa-- ‘Big Papa’ Papawazu?”

The lalafell crossed his arms and deepened his frown. “Read the bloody sign, didn’t ya? I’m Big Papa. Now, you here to BE a whore or BUY a whore, ‘cause I got plenty more to do today than waste time with you.”

Fashonti was desperately at a loss for words. Not knowing what to do, he pulled the flier out from his pocket and handed it over to the lalafell. “I’m--”

Big Papa snatched the flier and glared at it, then smiled wide. “Oh, good, you’re here to BE a whore! ‘Escort’ business has been booming and so we been lookin’ to expand. It’s great gil for easy work, so you won’t regret your decision. Now bend over, lemme get a look at ya.”

Uncertain of what else to do, Fashonti lowered his face closer to Big Papa. “I’m--”

The lalafell nodded in appreciation. “Yeah, you got the looks for this. Takes all kinds, really, but it helps to be a looker. I’m sure lotta people would pay to have a cat boy like-- You a boy, right?” Big Papa squinted his eyes and looked closer at Fashonti. “Well, don’t matter, someone’ll pay for time with ya. So whaddya say? Want the job?”

Fashonti swallowed hard, and spoke without thinking. “I need the money.”

Big Papa frowned and put his hands to his temples. “I’m not asking if you need-- We all need money, kid! Gil don’t grow on trees! Least not any tree I ever seen.” Big Papa sighed. “I’m asking if you want the job. I want you to answer honestly. I ain’t taking someone in against their will. This work ain’t for everyone. Some of us ain’t cut out for selling our bodies. So I’m going to ask again, and I want you to answer me explicitly: _Do you want the job?_ ”

Repeating his sister’s advice in his mind -- _Take your time. Choose your words._ \-- Fashonti nodded after a few moments of silence. “I need the money. I want the job.”

***

Fashonti sat in Big Papa’s office, avoiding eye contact. The lalafell looked like he wanted to keep a stern face but was failing to hide traces of pity. The young lad’s face was badly injured; his lip was split, traces of blood were still dried around his nose, and his right eye was swollen shut. Fashonti sat with a towel on, clutching it tightly closed, but could not completely hide the injuries beneath it.

After a long period of silence, Big Papa let out a long sigh. “So Vita tells me a client got… Violent with you.” Wanting to do something with his mouth other than frown, Papawazu pulled out a cigar and began chewing on the end of it instead of lighting it. “She also tells me you didn’t call out for one of the bouncers or make a noise to signal them while it was happening. She says no one even knew what happened until nearly a bell after the client was gone and you came out of the room.” He took the cigar out of his mouth and pointed it to Fashonti. “Can I ask _why_ you didn’t tell anyone what the problem was sooner?”

Fashonti’s eyes drifted from his lap, to the wall of the room, to the towel around him. He realized parts of his chest were still exposed beneath it and attempted to adjust the towel, in doing so realizing his pinkie finger was broken. Finally, he found his voice. “...I needed the money.”

Papawazu’s face turned a shade of beet red and he looked ready to shout all manner of profanity at the young boy. “That’s not-- You’ll still get a cut at the end of the night even if you have to turn down a client!” Calming himself down, he lowered his voice. “I told you when you first started, we don’t let them _DO_ shite like that! We got rules! When you don’t let the bouncers know when a client crosses a line, you don’t just endanger yourself, you put every one of the escorts that work here in danger! If a client gets the idea that they can skirt around the rules with _one_ of our escorts, they’ll try their luck with the _other_ escorts! Why would you--” Big Papa sighed. “I don’t want you thinking you have to put yourself through that shite just to make a bigger cut when the night is through. Gods, boy, no one should need gil so badly that they accept that kind of… treatment.”

Fashonti sat in silence as he carefully chose his words. “I’m very sorry. But I really needed the money.” He looked across the desk at Big Papa, finally making eye contact. “I can accept any wound that will heal if it means getting more gil.”

Once more chewing on the end of his cigar, the lalafell let out a long exhale. “Listen, if you really need gil that bad, I can pull some strings. I know some loan sharks that owe me a lot of favors. They can give you a loan with no interest rate so you don’t--”

Fashonti interrupted, shaking his head. “I need… so much more money than any one person has to give. I can hardly fathom how much I need sometimes, but… I know I would not be able to repay it in a lifetime if it were just given to me.”

Big Papa’s face softened as the miqo’te spoke. Pondering for a while if it would be the right thing to do, he finally nodded. “Okay. I know… another handler. An older cat lady. Another Keeper, like you. She’s in the same business as me, but her escorts…” The lalafell winced as he imagined it. “They accept clients like you had tonight. Most of them a lot worse. A _lot_ worse. I can’t stress that enough. But the pay is…” Big Papa frowned. “In your first week with them you’ll make more than I could pay you in a year.”

His eyes widening, Fashonti nodded. “I can take it. I need the money.”

The lalafell harshened his tone. “You need to know that the kind of work they do… I’ve never seen one of them retire from old age, okay? And even should every last one of the Twelve give you their blessing and get you out of it, you won’t be the same person.” Papawazu looked Fashonti straight in the eyes. “If I’m going to get you in touch with their handler, if I’m going to put you in those conditions, I need you to answer _very explicitly_ that this is what you want. I don’t want to lie in bed at night wondering if I sent someone there unwillingly; I like my restful sleep. So let me ask: _Do you want to work for them even knowing they will break you, body and soul?_ ”

As Fashonti sat in his chair, he looked down to his lap as Elsi’s words rang in his mind over and over. _Take your time. Choose your words._ When he met Big Papa’s gaze again, he nodded. “I need the money. I will do anything it takes, at any cost to my body… or my soul. I want to work for them.”

Papawazu sat back in his chair. He really hoped the cat would turn the offer down. “...Okay. I’ll get in touch with their handler. She’ll be here to talk with you in the morning.” He placed the cigar in his mouth, finally lighting it after all this time. “I’m not letting you see any more clients tonight, so go rest up.” As Fashonti rose and began to exit the office, Papawazu watched grimly. Though the miqo’te looked like he had no doubts about the path before him, Papawazu had the distinct impression that this was a boy walking gladly toward his own execution. When he finally exited the room, Big Papa sighed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

  
  



End file.
